


Getting it Back

by iamironman (orphan_account)



Category: Almost Maine - John Cariani, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Almost Maine, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Romance, dont worry, i mean maybe, it might seem sad, somone left a comment saying this was weird so be warned i guess, sorry - Freeform, you could think of it that way or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3754873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/iamironman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His voice stayed somewhat steady as he looked the taller man in the eye. “I want it back.” </p><p>Steve looked right back, confusion peaking its way up to his eyes. “What?” </p><p>Tony sighed, much like he did when he had to explain a concept to someone. “I want it back” He was speaking slower than normal, which was never a good sign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting it Back

**Author's Note:**

> okay I'm sorry wtf is this writing style it may not be consistent either schools a bitch. Based off the play “Almost, Maine” the scene (wow) Getting it Back. V cute 10/10 would recommend. Also could be AU (modern) but eh what the hell take from it what you will author is sleep deprived  
> The word choice is purposely different, very based off the play. I was in this, it was great. Only ruined my grades a bit, most of the reason why I haven't been posting, sorry!

There may not be many things Tony is sure of, but he’s almost positive that he shouldn’t be held responsible for anything that happens when he goes on an inventing rager. That one time when he had gone seventy straight hours in the lab, only to be pulled out by a disgruntled Steve who had to be contacted by Jarvis. Steve had sat him down, forced a meal into him, and put him to bed. It had felt, nice. Like he was loved. Steve always managed to do that, even when he was But… that didn’t matter now. 

 

Tony continued pounding on the door, heart racing in time with his own knocks. “Steve!” More pounding as he stomped his foot in annoyance. “Steve!” The man could now hear moving from inside the apartment. Tony had asked Steve to move in with him, but Steve had politely denied. He said that he liked his building, even with the old ladies upstairs who pinched his cheeks and commented on the ‘nice boy’ that came around. Needless to say, Tony was not amused, adding to his growing angst. “Steve!”

 

Tony watches as the lights flicked on in the apartment, a small groan accompanying from within. Steve’s voice, deep and rugged with sleep calls out as he, Tony presumes at least, gets presentable. “Okay!” More bumbling around from inside, and Tony lets a fist fall weakly onto the door his head soon after. “Tony, I’m coming, just, be quiet, okay?” Tony nods, even though he knows Steve can’t see anything. His fists clench and unclench on the door as his thoughts run wild. 

 

More bumping from inside the apartment and Tony decides that knocking isn’t the worse he can do by far. “Steve!” He calls again, voice ringing with emotions but resolve growing steadily. 

 

Steve responds, opening the door from his warm apartment into the cold hallway, the dark sky of the night visible. His hands immediately go for Tony, years of experience with him and his body and life. The two were intertwined for so long it’s become natural, almost. “Hey, hey, hey Tony! What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everything alright?” Concern was very nearly dripping from his voice and reflecting in his tired body language. 

 

Tony brushes past the openly gestured hands, instead charging right into the apartment. His usually steady voice fails him, quivering in time with his hands. “Steve-” He starts but he’s cut off as Steve interrupts him. Steve’s calloused fingers brush against his lips, silencing and angering the smaller man at the same time.

When the blond man speaks its vaguely out of concern, but amusement and confusion is evident as well. “What’s the matter, Tony?” When he gets no answer Steve continues to press. “What’s going on? What?” Tony is slowly appearing more angry, losing the nervousness he had maintained prior. 

 

His voice stayed somewhat steady as he looked the taller man in the eye. “I want it back.” 

 

Steve looked right back, confusion peaking its way up to his eyes. “What?” 

 

Tony sighed, much like he did when he had to explain a concept to someone. “I want it back” He was speaking slower than normal, which was never a good sign.

 

But Steve knew that sigh. He knew pretty much everything about the man, and yet this conversation continued to baffle him. “What?” He asked again, at a loss for what to say.

 

Tony threw his hands up in the air as if admitting defeat. “All the love I gave to you?” He waited for Steve to respond and when he didn’t continued with his rampage. “I want it back.” He crosses his arms over his chest in a defiant and finishing gesture.

 

Steve, for his part, looks vastly confused and a little like he might break into tears. His throat is scratchy when he speaks, and his voice comes out a little hoarse. “What?” He leans forwards towards his long time love-

 

-And his heart breaks a little when the engineer takes a step away from him, putting more distance between them both physically and emotionally. “Now.” Tony’s words are still strong, even as his face falls a little with each syllable.

 

There's a pause as the blond man struggles to comprehend what exactly is happening here at two in the morning in his dank apartment in Brooklyn. “I-I don’t understand-”

He’s cut off once again by the smaller man, who is ever so determined in his seemingly pointless endeavor. “I’ve got yours in the car.”

 

“What?” Steve steps forward again, his hands extending to reach his boyfriend. “Tony, what-”

 

Tony sighs, as if he’s explaining a physics problem to Steve or Clint at one in the morning again. It’s not the sigh of ‘you are obviously not someone who understood advanced physics in second grade’ or the ‘thor put poptarts where they shouldn't be again’ so much as the ‘I know you could get this if you wanted to’ sigh. It was both Steve’s favorite and least favorite at the same time. “All the love you gave to me?” He turns away from the extended arms, backing towards the doorway. “I’ve got it in the car.”

 

Steve rubs at his eyes, hoping that this might possibly be a dream, that his boyfriend isn’t possibly having a psychotic episode or, oh god, breaking up with him or something. “What are you talkin’ about?” He pauses, unsure of how to ask anything else. “Tony, are you sure you’re okay-”

 

He’s cut off once again. “I don’t want it anymore.” Tony pauses when Steve doesn’t reply at once. “I don’t want your love anymore Steve.” And then the brunette pretends not to brush at his eyes.

 

Steve does not hide the few tears that are now trickling down the side of his face. His voice is cracked and broken sounding when he speaks, the reality of the situation sinking in. “Why?”

 

The genius clears his throat, once, twice. And again. “I’ve made a decision.” He pauses, wiping his hands on his jeans (and steve can see the motor oil on them and god that brings back so many memories) before continuing. “We’re done.” 

 

Steve freezes in shock before responding “What?!-” He fumbles with the collar of his sleeping shirt, hands shaking in shock as his boyfriend (fiance his mind whispers) says the words of his worst nightmares, even worse than the cold and the ice.

 

Tony’s voice it hard when he speaks, the same voice he uses when he addresses reporters. “We’re done.” He pauses. “I’ve decided.” A throat clearing before continuing again. “And, so, I’ve brought all the love you gave to me, back to you.” He looks at the quivering Steve and his voice matches. “It’s the right thing to do.”

 

Steve stands in shock once more, words refusing to make their way to his lips. “Um,” he searches for the right thing to say. “I-”

 

He’s cut off again by Tony pointing out the door. “It’s in the car.” 

 

There’s a beat of silence that continues to grow as Tony has nothing to say it seems and Steve is paralyzed in his confusion and terror. “You said.”

 

Tony appears to wait for the blond man to do something, and when neither move (instead maintaining that steady eye contact that took years for Steve to achieve and he can feel it breaking with every moment) Tony speaks again. “I can get it for you.” He pauses, coking his head in a very familiar fashion. “Or, you can get it.” And that last statement didn’t sound so much like an option so much as a demand, and that’s the Tony Steve has known.

 

“Well, I don’t want it back.” Steve shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts running wild. It takes more will than it should to get the necct four words out before the genius cuts him off once again. “I don’t need it-”

 

“Well I don’t want it!” Tony gestures wildly with his arms, a habit he had picked up to get attention. Steve had seen this man at his lowest, he had seen him when he was with a bottle to his head and unsure of why he was on this planet. Yet here, in the middle of Steve’s apartment, with his sketches falling off the table and the dishes from their dinner of fancy takeout two nights ago (Tony’s idea) in the sink Tony was telling him he no longer needed him, much less anything that had to do with him. “What am I supposed to do with it, now that I don’t want it?”

 

Steve frowns, his jaw doing the twitch thing it does when he gets really emotional about a subject, whether it be how ‘girls deserve to be treated the same way, we knew that in the forties’ or ‘no, Tony, you can not make a sentient robot to spy on Clint in the vents’. “Well,” He starts, then, realizing he has no idea what to say, continues with “I don’t know…” 

 

“Well,” Tony turns away, back now facing Steve as he exits the apartment and storms down the empty hallway of the building “under the circumstances, it doesn’t seem right for me to keep it-”

 

Steve hurries behind the brown haired man, not bothering to jog, or gather any sort of pace in actuality. “Under what circumstances? Tony, what are-?” 

 

Steve himself is cut off as Tony continues, turning his face just a little over his shoulder so Steve (and both of them know he has perfect hearing it’s not like he had to) could see the smallest bit of his face. “-so I’m going to give it back.”

 

Steve stops at the entrance to the building as Tony stalks to one of his many cars that he had left in the parking lot. He calls out to him, voice ringing in the night. “I don’t understand-” Tony disappears from his sight, and instead of getting worried (Tony hates when he does that) he calls to the other man again. “What are you doing?”

 

Tony responds back in a marco polo type game from behind several cars lengths away. “I told you,” his voice sounds exasperated, “I’m getting all the love you gave to me, and I’m giving it back to you.”

 

Steve frowns at the implications of the statement for the first time. “Well, I’m not sure I want it-” He’s cut off as Tony blows past him, carrying boxes taller than him. “Whoa! Do you need help?” 

 

“Nope.” Tony frowns and continues on. “I got it.” His arms quiver a little, and they both pretend not to notice. “It’s not heavy.” He sets down four bags, probably more are hidden under those, of stuff. He throws his arms out, a smile creeping onto his face of a project well done. “Here you go.”

 

Steve looks more puzzled now then he did when he was trying to figure out the television (‘It’s not like the radio at all, that’s what they told me!’) or when Thor had asked him, Steve, to help him with the toaster (‘Thor you know I’m helpless with these kinds of things...’) when he says “And this is…?” 

 

Tony heads to door, as if he was just going to dump all this baggage, literally, on Steve and leave. “All the love you gave to me.” He pauses at the door as Steve stares down at the mess covering his already small living room. “Yeah.”

 

“Wow.” Steve stares for a beat, the thoughts ticking out almost audibly. “That’s alot.”

Tony nods in agreement. “Yeah.” He heads out to the car and Steve takes the opportunity to sit. He figures either Tony will return or he won’t there’s no helping it now.

 

Tony does come back in, carrying two more boxes. This time the lids are slightly open and Steve can see the first valentine he ever made for Tony peeking out. He swallows the bile trying to worm it’s way up his throat. “A whole lot.” 

 

Tony looks uncomfortable with his distress, but leaves only to return with one more large laundry looking bag to place with the rest. He leans against the door in respite. “Yeah.”

 

“Wow.” Steve says again. “What, what the heck am I gonna do with all this?” He gestures at the bags, and a stuffed monkey thats holding a heart falls out. “I mean… I don’t know if I even have the room.”

 

Tony is obviously thinking hard now, and his face displays how upset he is. “I’m sure you’ll find another place for it.” (and Tony tries not to think of Steve with someone else man woman anyone) “And now,” Tony pauses, “I think, it’s only fair you know, that you give me mine back. Because…” He searches for an answer to his own question. “Because I want it back.” When Steve doesn’t respond Tony prompts him again. “All the love I gave to you?”

 

Steve looks up from his hands, eyes red again. “Yeah?”

 

“I want it back.” Tony sighs when Steve doesn’t move. “So go get it.” He wonders if Steve didn’t hear his question, because why else wouldn’t he answer, it is like almost four in the morning, but still. He’s a soldier. “Steve, go get it.” Steve still doesn’t move, still as a statue with his eyes on the boxes and bags. “Please.” Tony tries to be nice, but that too gets no response. “Now!!”

 

Steve appears a little shaken when he stands, and he shoves his hands into his PJ pants pockets. “Okay.” He says, and heads into his bedroom.Tony sits in the chair, content to wait, but ready to leave as soon as his items are returned. Steve comes back carrying a teeny bag, no where near big enough to fit all the love Tony had given him, no way, and sets it on the table between the chair Tony is occupying and the couch Steve collapsed into immediately.

 

Tony points at the bag, fingers twitchy. “What is that?” and he sounds accusing, he knows, but he can’t help it.

Steve replies as if the answer was obvious, as slight smile actually tugging at the corner of his mouth before disappearing again. “It’s all the love you gave me.”

 

“That’s- That is not-” Tony frowns, not believing the statement provided for him in such clear context. “There is no way- That is not…” He looks up to Steve, mortification playing behind his eyes. “Is that all I gave you?”

 

Steve frowns because he hadn’t honestly meant to make Tony upset. “It’s all I could find…” He said, trailing off. 

 

“Oh.” Tony says, looking from his collection of bags and boxes and love to the single velvet bag that separated the long time couple. “Okay.” And he doesn’t even try to hide as the tears fall freely from his eyes, silent in a way few master.

 

Steve scoots closer to the seat Tony is on, hands reaching for his face to wipe away the tears in an old gesture of love and comfort. “Tony… what’s going on here?” 

 

Tony stiffens a little. “I told you, we’re done.” And the voice that normally sounds so confident is broken by tears and agony.

 

Steve shakes his head, trying to understand. “Why do you keep saying that?”

 

“Because-” Tony swallows, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, knowing he had to say this. “Because when I asked you if you ever thought we were gonna get married- remember when I asked you that?” And Steve doesn’t seem to want to remember that night when he messed up so bad. Tony continues to prompt though, “In December? It was snowing?”

 

Steve nods in confirmation before realizing that Tony is looking at his hands and not him. “Yeah.” 

 

“Yeah, we,” Tony paused, gathering his thoughts and cool. “When I asked you, that, you got so quiet. And everybody said that that, that right there, should have told me everything.”

 

Steve leans in closer to Tony. “Everybody who?”

 

Tony grabs Steve hands, the only time the touched the whole conversation. “Everybody!” 

 

Steve continues to question. “Who?”

 

Tony sighs in a sort of guilty way, “Romanoff…”

 

“Romanoff?!” Steve exclaimed louder than he meant to. “Romanoff said that, like she’s some kind of expert?” 

 

Tony pulls his hands away at the rise in volume. “Yes, Romanoff said that how quiet you got was all I needed to know, and, I think she’s right.” Tony stands, ready to leave. “You don’t love me.”

 

“What?-” Steve stands as well, hands reaching out to grab Tony. “Tony, no!”

 

“Shh! Steve, stop!” Tony says and Steve immediately drops his hands to his sides, sheepish. “I’ve been trying to fix that , I’ve tried to make you love me by giving you every bit of love I had, and now,” He pauses, heaving in a breath. “I don’t have any love eft for me, and that’s-that’s not good for a person. You should know that. And, that’s why I want all the love I gave you back. Because I want to bring it with me.”

 

Steve freezes. “Where are you going?”

 

Tony turns away again. “I need to get away from things.” 

 

Steve frowns, voice turning loud again. “What?” What things!” He steps forward as Tony makes it closer to the door. “There aren’t any things to get away from, Tony!”

 

“Yes!” He says and Tony sighs an angry sigh. “There are.” And then he points directly into Steve’s big chest. “You!”  
Steve manages to look a combination of abashed and frightened and ashamed and curious all at the same time. “Me?”

 

Tony sighs, turning away from the blonde. “Yes.” He says. “You are the things in this town I need to get away from because I have to think and start over, and so: all the love I gave to you? I want it back, in case I need it.” He steps away as Steve’s face falls into a heartbroken look. “Because I can’t very well go around giving your love – ‘cause that’s all I have right now, is the love you gave me – I can’t very well go around giving your love to other guys, ‘cause- that just doesn’t seem right –”

 

Steve interrupts Tony with his hands, mouth speaking before his mind could catch up. “Other guys? There are other guys?!?”

 

Tony paused, looking at Steve. “No,” He thought “not yet, but I’m assuming there will be.”

 

Steve cupped his hands around the smaller man’s face. “Tony –”

 

Tony poked his fingers into Steve’s bigger chest. “Shh!!! So I think -- . I think that, since I know now that you’re not ready to do what comes next for people who have been together for quite a long time, I think we’re gonna be done-” 

 

“Why? Tony -- !” He’s cut off by Steve but continues on in the next breath.

 

“-and so, I think the best thing we can do, now, is just return the love we gave to each other, and call it …” Tony grabs the bag from where it had been set on a table, taking in the small appearance. “ . . . even.” (It’s not “even” at all.) “Oh, Jeezum Crow, is that really all the love I gave you, Steve? I mean, I thought -- . I mean, what kind of person am I if this is all the love I gave y--- . . . No . . . n-n-no!” He cuts himself off. “I know I gave you more than that, Steve, I know it!” He pauses, looking from the small bag to Steve again. “Did you lose it?”

 

Steve recoils like a gun. “What?!? No, Tony, no!”

 

Tony fires back. “Did you lose it, Steve? ‘Cause I know I gave you more than that, and I think you’re pulling something on me, and this is not a good time to be pulling something on me!”

 

“I’m not.” Steve says, brushing the hair off his forehead, feeling the stress of the situation getting to him. “Pulling something on you. I wouldn’t do that to you . . . Just – I think -- . . . Gosh -- . . . “ He stares at his hands for a second not in a mean way, but just at a loss. “I think maybe you should just take what you came for, and I guess I’ll see you later.” Steve turns his back in a final way, walking into the back of the apartment. 

 

The realization that Steve was just, walking away, finally set in for Tony. He called out weakly for the man he loved. “Steve . . . Steve . . .” He was at a loss, confused as to what he wanted. The bag sat on the side table like some forgotten dream, just out of reach but attainable if you just closed your eyes and tried hard enough. Curiosity igniting him, and Tony reached for the bag before taking a seat on the couch that so many memories had filled. Opening the small, red, bag, Tony wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “Steve!? What is this?” He peers into the bag again. “ What the heck is this, Steve? This is not the love I gave you, Steve, at least have the decency to give me back what --. Steve, what is this?”

 

From the side bedroom Steves voice rang out. “It’s a ring, Tony.”

 

Tony's jaw dropped, in all senses of the word. “What?”

 

“It’s a ring.” Steve stated again, walking into the living room once again to drop next to Tony on the couch.

 

“What? Well, what the -- ?” Tony reached into the bag, grasping the small box into his hand. “This isn’t -- . This is not -- . . .” And for a genius, the realization of what the box entailed set in rather slowly, pieces of it connecting. “Oh, Steve, this is a ring! Is this a . . . ring? A ring that you give to someone you’ve been with for quite a long time if you want to let them know that you’re ready for what comes next for people who have been together for quite a long time . . . ?”

 

“Yup.” Steve smiled at his partner.

 

“Oh . . . “ Tony opens up the box, seeing a glittering band. “Oh!” A beat passes. “But . . . all the love I gave to you? Where is it?”

 

Steve gestured at the ring. “It’s right there, Tony.”

 

Tony frowned. “But –”

 

Steve cuts him off. “It’s right there.”

 

Tony frowns again. “But –”

 

“ It is! That’s it! Right there!” Steve smiles at Tony, glancing at the ring that had slipped into his hands. “There was so much of it – you gave me so much, over the years –”

 

“Eleven.” Tony interrupted. 

 

“-- over the eleven years –” Steve corrected.

 

Tony relaxed into the couch as his boyfriend continued his statement. “Eleven, yeah .”

 

“-- yeah, you gave me so much . . . that I didn’t know what to do with it all. I had to put some in the garage, some in the shed. I asked Sam if he had any suggestions what to do with it all, and he said, “You got a ring yet?” I said, “No.” And he said, “Get her one. It’s time. When there’s that much of that stuff comin’ in, that’s about the only place you can put it.”” A beat passed in silence before Steve glanced down at the ring. “He said it’d all fit.” Another beat passed and a smile started to creep up his face. “And he was right.” Together the couple stares down at the ring that symbolizes so much. “That thing is a lot bigger than it looks . . .” Steve shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “So, there it is. All the love you gave me. Just not in the same . . . form as when you gave it.”

 

Tony smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

 

“You still want it back?” Steve looked at Tony worriedly.

 

“Yes. I do.” Tony said confidently.

 

The smile fell a little form Steves face. “Well, then . . . take it.”

 

Tony gestures at the bags of love that still scatter the floor. “Can I keep all that?”

 

Steve shrugged. “It’s yours.”

 

“Thank you.” Tony whispered as Steve placed the ring on his finger. “Steve -- . . . you didn’t have to get me a ring. That’s not what I was asking –”

 

“Yes I did. It was time. And it’s honorable.” Steve smiled.

 

“Well . . .” Tony searched for words. “It’s very beautiful.” He paused before looking at Steve and standing up. “Steve -- . . . I’m so sorry. It’s just – it’s a Friday night, and I was sittin’ home all by myself – we didn’t even go out or anything, and I started thinkin’ that that’s just not right, and –”

 

“Shh.” Steve cuts off his boyfriends words with a kiss before pulling him into an embrace, not noticing as Tony stares down at the ring that kept them together.


End file.
